


it's not really anything

by beachfuneral



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study, College, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 09:24:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14565981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beachfuneral/pseuds/beachfuneral
Summary: yamaguchi isn't one for introspection but can't stop questioning his relationship with tsukishima. attempted character analyses





	it's not really anything

Tadashi didn't know if his expression was guarded. He wasn't really sure what impassivity looked like on his face, and he was used to being told that he was open book. When Tadashi started to become more worried of others teasing him, he tried harder to perfect a flat mask. He thought of Tsukki's careful, precise movements and how his more expressive reactions were judiciously saved. And so when Tsukki actually laughed or smiled, Tadashi felt like he’d been given a present. 

Achieving some kind of emotional privacy was conceptually appealing but classically eluding. Tadashi couldn’t control his own body any more than his emotions. He jumped at sudden noises or shivered with happiness or screwed his face in frustration almost daily. 

Tadashi wondered privately if Tsukki pitied him for his surface-level reactions and the way criticisms clung to him for days. Tsukki almost represented his ideal self, calculating and composed and effortless. Why was expending effort so pitiable? He knew it made people feel uncomfortable to see others visibly struggle and fail, and this response seemed so callous. Everything is a competition. People see others’ weakness as an opportunity for self-advancement, Tadashi thought. What a cliche, Tsukki would say. Nobody actively thinks that. But why couldn’t hard work be valued over innate talent? Tadashi thought trying your best was noble enough. 

And was he more palatable because of his own readily-perceived failures? Is that why Tsukki consented to spend so much time with him? Because he posed no threat? 

Tsukishima coughed loudly, shaking Tadashi out of his reverie. Books pages ruffled and Tadashi stretched against the back of his desk chair. He heard his bed springs creak as Tsukki stood and shook out the crumbs on his sweater. Tadashi turned to watch him approach, and in response Tsukki bent at the middle and rubbed his cheek against Tadashi's own. Tadashi blushed and nearly shivered, his hand cupping Tsukki's face. 

"You've done... one indefinite integral. And you forgot to add the constant of integration," Tsukki deadpanned, pulling away and tapping a thin finger on Tadashi's open notebook. 

"Yeah, thanks Tsukki! I'll finish in the morning," Tadashi answered, trying to shrug off Tsukki's look of scrutiny. 

He’d been spinning himself in circles ever since last week's study session. If he didn’t understand why Tsukki spent time with him in the first place, how was he supposed to know what to do? What if he unconsciously messed up and Tsukki no longer liked him? 

He remembered the beginning, how last week Tsukki had pushed aside his own notebook when Tadashi had sustained a blush through their English review, stumbling over vocabulary and breaking off incoherently. 

Tadashi had meant to confess that afternoon. In fact, he’d been hyping himself up for days. He had enough objective evidence that Tsukki liked him, there was the night on the bus when Tsukki had slept on his shoulder, at the diner when Tsukki bought him fries, and most recently when Tsukki smiled at him over dinner. 

"Yamaguchi, can you stop?" Tsukki had asked, clearly irritated. Tadashi had just been staring off into space in the general direction of his homework, nervously running his lines. 

Tadashi had stuttered an apology and in a rush, pushed his own notebook aside and firmly grabbed Tsukki's hands, one of which was still holding a pencil. 

Tsukki had stared down at Tadashi's grip so long that his glasses began to slip down his face. Tadashi, stalling and terrified, pushed them back up. 

"Tsukki, I-I like you and I-," Tadashi had forced out, clasping Tsukki's hands even tighter in heightened anxiety, "I think I want-," 

"Yeah. Er." Tsukki had looked beyond uncomfortable, which was truly a feat. His countenance had broken and his fingers fiddled with Tadashi's. 

"But-if this is-we're friends and I-" Tadashi had attempted to finish his thought, but he couldn't stop looking at Tsukki's long fingers, callused and still a little sticky from volleyball tape residue. Tsukki had suddenly shifted and dropped Yamaguchi's sweaty hands, pulling him closer. Holding him! Tsukki had moved so quickly Tadashi couldn't comprehend how this had happened and he couldn't understand how Tsukki knew that this was what he had wanted. But Tsukki was resting his head on Tadashi's shoulder. Tadashi's breathing was loud and Tsukki's breathing was loud but nothing could stop him and Tadashi hugged Tsukki. For the second time in perhaps their entire friendship, spanning their respective childhoods and adolescence and volleyball careers and their two years in college, Tsukki hugged him harder.

**Author's Note:**

> ok this was originally three chapters but i wasnt happy with the last two, so i’ll be doing rewrites! coming soon


End file.
